Late Night Shoveling and Winter Time Thoughts

Winter sucks, but for some reason I love shoveling in the middle of the night. I think the neighbors probably hate me, but whatever. They let their pug out every time I let my dogs out (now you know who let the dogs out) and then my dogs get all distracted and can’t go potty. And man, it’s freezing cold so I just want them to go, go, go. I sit there and sing to them. I talk like a baby-wayby. I pray to my lord and savior Jesus Christ and every other diety including, but not limited to Shiva and Majin Buu that they will just go god-damn-motherfucking pee pee and poo poo because I am selfish and don’t want to freeze anymore. I also don’t want to clean up anymore poopy poo in the house and really don’t want to be awakened again by a dog peeing on my head. (That’s a whole other rant.)

I pray and pray and right about the time I’m closing with an amen and well before my dogs are helicoptering into poop squats, the light on my neighbor’s porch always flips on and the door slides open and Super Distracto Pug 3000 comes snorting outside. It’s a cute, tubby little dog that they feed doughnuts and pastries which get left in the yard sometimes. This is to my dog’s delight and my dismay, but it’s sort of what I imagine the Israelites must have felt when they were wandering around picking up manna off the ground. “Oh look, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat”, an Israelite would say, “God left us some Krispy Kreme’s this morning and Jim Cramer said Krispy Kreme was a solid stock this month so we better eat up and help support those fools that took his advice.” Think about it. How badass would it be to just wander around the lawn picking up breakfast bread from God? Seriously though does it always have to come out when I’m out taking my dogs out? (Side note: I think doughnut poop must be delicious because it’s like crack to my crackhead dogs who eat it anytime they can.)

And so I shoveled. I did my driveway, front stoop, back porch, a good portion of the street, and for good measure some of the grass. So who’s the champ now?! (Not the people’s champ either. As an educated American knows that’s Dwayne The Rock Johnson. He’s also the reigning WWE Champion after beating CM Punk this week. No really.)

If you’re still awake right now go catch some snowflakes too. That’s as American and Apple Pie and Ice Cream and in this economy considerably more affordable for the average American. It’ll make you feel alive mostly because the snow is probably filled with jet fuel and global warming juices that are horrible for your insides and will give you bowl cancer, but not for decades so do it anyway. And make sure to take HDR cellphone pictures and share them with the world on your stupid blog that no one reads like some weird self paparazzi-ing sycophant who doesn’t post their blown-out and weirdly exposed/saturated photos to Instagram like a well adjusted modern man. But the thing is Instagam is just another annoying thing to check and maintain and I’d rather be out catching snowflakes in my mouth than posting One Direction memes and pictures of my dinner (snowflakes) to yet another site while trying to accumulate the most hearts. It’s just stressful to have another place where I’m trying to get attention and likes and deliver high quality content to my fans.

So grab your shovel. It’s the middle of the night but you’re currently under employed. Aren’t you? You are. You don’t have to get up early tomorrow, it’s Saturday. Grab your Saturday by the horns and start it right now at 4:30AM CST and then sleep through most of the rest of it after you’re done. Burn off the Cheesy Gordita Crunch, Crunchwrap Supreme, Mountain Dew Baja Blast Slurpee (probably not called that because 7-Eleven owns the trademark, but that’s basically what it is), Medium Baja Blast Mountain Dew (I didn’t know if the Slurpee one was going to be any good so I ordered a backup. It wasn’t good. It was fucking awesome. But I drank them at midnight. Whoops.), and Cookie Sandwich that you had earlier. (I might have been lying about snowflakes being my dinner.)

This weekend wake your neighbors up and wake up your soul. Remember what Kid President said: “Fuck you Robert Frost.” Goodnight.